You run as fast as you can, your lungs barely keeping up with your pace, your shoes thunking loudly against the marble floor and echoing through the deserted, dark hallway. Most of the girls are probably asleep...except for the ones who have already been injured. Your access to the alarm had been blocked by the attack, so you checked his room first, forcing yourself not to call out for him for fear of giving up your location.

Which reminds you that your shoes are making a hell of alot of noise.

But the adrenaline keeps you moving. You have to find him before someone else gets hurt, those who are sleeping and unaware of the danger. It’s just like a Sith to strike in the dark when people are most vulnerable.

You nearly fall as you round the corner, your feet slipping out from under you. You glance quickly over your shoulder to make sure you’re not being followed. No one. You experience a flicker of relief and then hope that Space Dog found a place to hide after providing the distraction that allowed your escape from the lounge. And you hope the super canine took a good chunk out of Darth Ginsu, if not the whole leg.

You nearly break the door down as you dart inside the reception area, the light shining from beneath his office door, boosting your confidence.

“General,” you say, but it is merely a whisper as your lungs heave from overexertion. You reach forward and open his office door, swinging it wide with the momentum of your body.

He is moving toward you as you first see him, having obviously sensed your entrance and most likely heard your voice. Your countenance, your exhaustion, and the distress you send out in waves causes him to step quickly to you, placing his hands on your shoulders to calm you, his eyes filled with concern.

“She’s here,” is all you can manage to say as your breaths remain quick and deep.

It’s all you need to say.

His face changes from worry to determination. He nods as one hand leaves your shoulder to remove his saber from his belt. “Let’s go,” he says, stepping around you and out of his office.

You follow him closely, taking shelter in the confidence and calm he exudes. You have never seen him immersed in duty like this before. His strides are purposeful, his goal to protect and defend not mere innocents, but his innocents.

You hear a muffled growl from him as he steps into the lounge and surveys the damage. The fear is palpable as your friends lay injured. He walks around the room quickly, making sure no one is unaccounted for and that all will be well. He returns to where you stand, his eyes pure green, his jaw tight.

“Stay here,” he says, his voice taking on a resonance you’ve never heard before. “Tend to them.”

“But….”

“You are safe here,” he says. “She has headed for the dorms.”

You gasp as the dread seeps into your veins.

“It will be alright. But I must stop her now.”

“Yes, of course,” you say.

He holds your chin in his hand for a moment, his face softening and a faint smile of reassurance covering his face. And then he is gone, out the door and into the night to hunt down the attacker.

You fight back the tears as you help your friends – some bruised, some bleeding – but you give a silent thanks that the injuries aren’t worse and that the Darth bitch didn’t know about the rest of the staff sleeping upstairs.

You hear scampering behind you and turn to see Space Dog running toward the lounge. Her cold, wet nose sniffs at your face, and you can’t help but smile at her motherly concern.

“Good princess,” you coo as you rub her ears. “You saved the day.”

Several minutes later, you have everyone on their feet…or at least sitting upright. Those who are able help you get the others to the clinic. All in all, considering the surprise attack and the ferocity of it, things could have been much worse.

Once the more serious injuries have been tended to, you return to the lounge in an attempt to clean up the knocked over furniture and broken glass. The air still lingers with the buzz of panic and confusion. You try to block it out of your mind as you tend to the simple, mundane task of establishing order.

You jump as you hear footsteps behind you.

“It’s alright,” he says.

You turn around, grateful for his return, your eyes full of questions.

“She ran,” he says, somewhat disgusted. “Cowardly Sith.”

“I thought Sith were mean,” you say.

He smiles softly. “Being mean does not make one brave. Most bullies are cowards when you get right down to it.” He bends down to help you upright a table. “Attacking in the night, stabbing people in the back and running…there is not much bravery in that.”

“I suppose you’re right,” you say. “What happened?”

“I saw her running for the dorms…at least that was my assumption.”

“What do you mean?”

He walked back to the front door and closed it, locking it tight. “Is this where she came in.”

You swallow hard. “Yes,” you say quietly.

He nods and then continues. “She was really heading for her escape and not for the dorms.”

“Oh,” you say, the light coming on, “you mean Evil Sith Bike in the bushes or something?”

He chuckles softly. “Exactly. She knew I was close behind her. As soon as I ignited my saber, she literally flew to it. It didn’t seem prudent to give chase and leave all of you unprotected. I am fairly certain she works alone, but there seemed no point in testing that theory tonight.”

“Good idea,” you say, trying to keep your calm.

“How is everyone?”

“Fine. Everyone will be fine.”

“And you?”

“Lucky to be unscathed,” you say, forcing a smile.

He studies you carefully.

“Thanks to Space Dog here,” you say, opting for a diversion. You reach down and pet her head. “She jumped right in the middle of it. Made off with half a boot, too,” you say stepping over to pick up a long, torn up piece of leather laying on the floor.

“Well,” he says with a smile, “perhaps we should get another dog or two.”

Space Dog growls.

“It might take some convincing,” you say with a grin.

“Well,” he says, “everything is secure for now.”

You look around the room and then nod. “Yeah, I’m going to head up to bed.”

“You sure you’re alight?”

“Yeah. Fine. Good night,” you say, turning to head down the hall.

“Good night.”

~*~

Your eyes absolutely refuse to close. You lay on your back staring at the ceiling for what seems like hours. You turn your head to look at the clock and find that it has only been ten minutes. Your body is agitated, your insides tightly wound, your mind buzzing. With a sigh, you throw off the covers and get out of bed.

You wander out into the hall, your feet and calves keenly feeling the chill from the cold floor. You consider going back inside your room to put on a robe over your knee-length nightgown, but the air itself is a comfortable temperature. You walk slowly down the hall, looking somewhat hopefully for light coming through any of the doors. You reach the end of the hall, finding every room dark, your friends lucky to be asleep.

You are about to turn around and return when you notice a light under the door to his room. You take a few steps forward, not wanting to intrude but not wanting to be alone either. You stand silently next to his door, listening for any sounds of movement….or company. One never knows around here.

Hearing nothing, you knock quietly, leaning your ear against the door…and then you hear water running. Knowing you probably shouldn’t, but need to do it nonetheless, you turn the knob slowly and open the door, peeking in to scan the room. You take a few steps in and hear the shower running. You consider that you should probably just leave….but you can’t, the heavy weight on your shoulders now much more apparent for some reason. You need to just be here where it feels safe.

You look around the room quickly. And then you lower yourself where you stand, sitting on the floor, your back pressed against the foot of the bed. You hug your knees to your chest and then stretch your nightgown, pulling it over your legs, turning yourself into a self-contained little ball. And then you wait for him.

You finally hear the water shut off. You sit silently, not wanting to surprise him but figuring he will detect your presence before he actually comes out of the bathroom. The door is open, so you lower your face to your knees to give him privacy, needing him for other reasons tonight, your body too stressed and drained for other, more pleasant activities.

You hear the shower curtain open and the quiet creak of the bathtub as he steps out of the shower. The possibility that he may now be aware of you causes something to loosen inside you. You gasp suddenly as tears pour out of your eyes as you press your face against your knees. And then you hear his movements cease suddenly.

A few moments pass, and then you sense his approach, the hands lifting your head not catching you by surprise.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking up at his welcome form, his chest bare, his body covered only by his loose sleeping pants.

“Shhhh.” He leans forward to kiss your forehead. “Talk to me.”

“I let her in,” you say, placing a hand over your mouth as you choke on a sob.

“What?” He sits down facing you, one hand cradling the back of your head as the other catches the tears as they fall.

“That Darth bitch came in through the door,” you say, beginning to lose your composure. “I assumed it was a friend, somebody here.” You inhale sharply. “The other girls told me to look through the peephole just in case, but…. I wasn’t thinking, I just…opened the door.”

“She would have found her way in no matter what you did,” he says.

You nod, knowing he’s right, but feeling the pain anyway. “And then she just lunged in and started hurting people. I just watched for a moment while she started attacking them…and then when I tried to stop her, she turned on me….” You notice your hand is shaking as you wipe your wet face. “And that’s when Space Dog jumped in,” you say, trying to smile. “And then I ran.”

“You did the right thing,” he says.

“But they all got hurt except for me.”

“Since these are obviously not tears of joy, I think it’s safe to say that you did get hurt.”

Your lungs hitch. “I tried to stop her,” you whisper.

“Of course you did,” he says softly.

“But it wasn’t enough,” you say.

“Come here,” he whispers, pulling you forward. His arms encircle you, and you lean against him, your head resting on his bare shoulder. His fingers gently stroke your hair as he slightly rocks you back and forth while you cry.

You hold on to him tightly, anchoring yourself in his warmth and comfort, and purge yourself of the sorrow of witnessing the injuries your friends sustained and of the inexplicable rage unleashed upon all of you.

“Do not waste your energy trying to make sense of her actions. Think instead that you are safe and loved. We all have something special here, and no amount of hostility or attacks against us can ever change that. It only makes us stronger and binds us closer to each other.”

“But if she returns—“

“We will be ready for her,” he says. He lifts your head from his shoulder and looks into your eyes. “And you know that I am here and won’t allow her to harm any of you.”

You nod. “I know.” You take a deep breath, your tears finally subsiding.

He then stands and bends down to help you up. “Lay down,” he says, his head gesturing toward the bed.

“Oh, I don’t want to bother you anymore. I should go and—“

“I said, lay down.” He gives you a rather amused look.

You smile. “I’m really worn out.”

“I know,” he says, placing his hands on your shoulders and walking you along the length of the bed. Then he gives you a gentle push until you crawl up on the mattress.

You climb under the covers as he walks back to turn off all the lights. Then he follows you into the bed, your body facing him as he lies down. He simply looks at you for a moment, stroking your cheek with his fingertips. Then he moves forward and places a soft, sweet kiss on your lips, the gesture speaking more to you than his words ever could. He slips his arms around you and pulls you to rest against his chest.

“Sleep now,” he says quietly, kissing the top of your head as his arms hold you tight.

You close your eyes and let yourself be lulled to sleep by the gentle massage of his fingers in your hair and the steady, sure beat of his heart in your ear.

She can’t touch you here.